


Home Is Where the Heart Is

by evansrogerskitten



Category: Dean Winchester - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: 18+ ONLY, Angst, F/M, Grace Kink, Implied/Referenced Torture, NSFW, Smut, Spoilers, season 13 and 14 spoilers, spn spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16214840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansrogerskitten/pseuds/evansrogerskitten
Summary: Dean made the deal and has been Michael's hostage for months. You're heartbroken until he returns home.





	Home Is Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> The is for Kink Bingo, Square filled: Grace kink. Also for Genre Bingo, Square filled: Reunited 
> 
> Thank you to just-another-busy-fangirl for stepping in and betaing this for me!

You could barely keep your eyes open. The hum of the heater kicked on, and you could hear Mary clinking dishes in the kitchen down the hall. When was the last time you slept? Two days ago? Three? You’d been blurry drunk, passed out on the library table until Sam nudged your shoulder and suggested that you go lay down. Instead you got up and went for a walk out in the rain, praying to a deity that you knew had abandoned the world years before. You didn’t want to sleep.

Every nightmare was full of terror by the monster that had taken the man you loved.

It had been eight weeks since Dean had made the deal with Michael. He’d saved you, Sam, Jack. He’d saved the world again. He’d killed Lucifer once and for all. And then you’d lost him to a psychopath angel who was now impossible to find.

Lead after lead turned to disappointment and failure. When you and Sam would finally get close, ready to take Michael down and get Dean back- you always showed up too late. You’d find tortured corpses with unimaginable destruction, all the while knowing Dean’s hands has inflicted the trauma before you. The search was numbing, and you had panic attacks for the first time in your life. Your badass hunter bitch exterior was gone.

You obsessed about what was happening to Dean. Was he cold? Hurt? Lonely? Did he remember your face, your voice? Hopefully he was unaware and living in a fantasy like Sam said he was when Gadreel possessed him. Maybe Michael had Dean thinking he was working a case with you guys. Goofing around, driving Baby, kissing you. Maybe he was okay.

Probably not.

Sam was trying to put on a strong face, as Winchesters do. For you, for Mary, for Jack. But you knew that he was just as devastated as you were. And you knew that you weren’t the only one who noticed the fist shaped hole in his bedroom door.

The grief knifed through the sanity you had left, tiny slivers of reality at a time. When you could sleep for an hour here or there, you’d find relief in the few seconds before waking completely when you’d forget it all, roll over to be pulled into Dean’s strong arms, and then like a punch to the stomach find him gone again. You couldn’t sleep in the bedroom you used to share with him, not when his scent was still in your pillows, his boots and books still strewn about. Seeing his weapons, smelling his clothes...finding the engagement ring he’d hidden in his duffle.

You wished you were dead.

The first night of the ninth week Sam trudged into the war room, dark shadows under his eyes. He sighed and looked down at you where you were leaning over the bright outline of eastern Europe, your hair damp from the shower Mary had insisted you take in hopes it would make you relax and sleep for a few hours. You didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

“Will you at least go lay down in my room? Or Mom said you could sleep in her’s?” Sam sighed, and you hated that you couldn’t help carry the weight on his shoulders. “I know you said no, but lemme call Cas. He can help you sleep.” His brow furrowed in frustration when you looked up at him. “If... _when_ we get Dean back, you’ll need your strength.”

You bit down on your lip to stop it from quivering, “Okay.”

Sam met your eyes as you got up, and for the first time since that night it all went down, he hugged you. You choked down a sob as he tucked you under his chin, both of you holding on tight to each other as you found comfort for the first time in weeks. You tried to smile as you looked up at him before pulling away to head down the hall like a castaway zombie. You passed all the bedrooms, not stopping at Sam’s door, or Mary’s, and closing your eyes as you passed your’s and Dean’s room. As if on autopilot you kept walking to the garage, where you opened the door of the one place you felt safe, the one place where you could breathe. The one place where you felt completely safe, like Dean was still with you. With a deep sigh you tucked your face into the seat, scrunched your eyes closed, and promptly passed out in the Impala’s backseat for six hours.

* * *

 “Sweetheart.”

You cursed your subconscious as you heard his memory taunt you, turning your face into the soft black vinyl. No. The nightmares always started this way. “Please no.”

“Sweetheart, wake up.”

“No,” you whimpered, dreading the flashes of torture and soulless opal eyes. Even asleep, the heartache was excruciating.

“I’m sorry...can you, will you please look at me?” his voice pleaded.

You slowly opened your eyes. Wow. Finally a good dream, your first in months. Dean was there in the Impala, leaning over you his hands on either side of your legs. This dream smelled like him, like leather met his spicy shaving cream met gun oil that you’d know in pitch dark. “Dean?”

“Hi sweetheart.” Suddenly dream Dean was crawling over you, his body pressed against yours like so many other times right there in the backseat. He was warm and heavy, and your heart began to race as this fantasy shared the air with you. You reached out a shaky hand and pressed it to his cheek, feeling the warm scratch of his scruff in your hand as he leaned into you. “I missed you so much.”

“Who are you?” you began to panic, pushing a palm against his chest. You were trapped inside the car, this shell of your memories together, and you had nowhere to go. This was too easy. “What, how are you here?”

Dean shook his head as he slowly brushed his thumb along your cheek. “I don't know. I woke up on the ground a block away, last thing I remember…” His face fell and he closed his eyes momentarily, opening them to reveal the darkest green hiding a terror you couldn’t understand. Something horrible had happened to him, but he was unable to put up a wall for you like he would for the others. “I’m scared too.”

You placed your hands on his cheeks. “It’s really you? No more Michael?”

“Just me, baby. Good ol’ Dean Winchester.” He grinned this time, the fear fading away to pure joy when he saw you finally believed him. “He’s gone.”

Relief rushed through you as your lips crashed against his. You clung to each other tightly, and you couldn’t fight the sobs that were escaping your chest. You’d been lost without him, and now he was back. Dean was back.

He pulled back to tug his plaid shirt off, and then pulled his t-shirt over his head. You ran your fingers down his chest, marveling in the warmth of his skin. Dean took your hand between his and kissed your palm, letting you set it over his heart.

“I’m home now.”

You grinned, truly happy for the first time in months, and kissed him, feverish as you tugged off each other’s clothes, letting him slide your shorts down and then pull your t-shirt over your head. Your clothes were tossed into the front seat as you searched the map of scars that you had memorized: the mole on his shoulder that he swore was just a freckle but you were nervous was suspiciously misshapen, the scar over his ribs where a ghoul had almost knifed him to death, the burn on his wrist from the first time you tried to make a pie for him and he’d had to put out the fire after you nearly burned the kitchen down.

It was Dean’s body, but you also knew it was his soul. You could see it in him with each touch. Each kiss, each scent of your neck, each shared breath; it was all Dean. A hand kneaded your breast in just the way he knew you liked. His lips expected where’s yours would move next. And he knew exactly where to nibble your ear to make you moan his name.

Slowly you found your way back to each other. When Dean’s fingers twisted your left nipple you cried out against his mouth, earning his needy groan in reply. He did it again and this time you almost knocked your forehead on his chin as you lurched up off the seat. A slow burn of some kind of magic flowed from his fingertips and over your skin, moving through your breast and fading around your heart.

“What the fuck was that?” you gasped, watching as Dean tentatively did it again. You threw your head back and moaned, the magic rushing farther through your body and down between your legs.

“I don’t know,” Dean pulled his hands away. “Does it hurt?”

“Fuck no,” you shook your head as you took a deep breath. “Feels amazing.”

He smiled before focusing intently as he ran his fingers down your body, watching your face carefully as you reacted. “Huh. I think it's the grace. It’s…” he paused as your hips twisted up as his fingers slid through your damp folds. “Fuck, I think it’s leftover grace.”

“It’s so good,” you moaned, your mind on nothing else but the magic tendrils now tightening over your clit and spiraling inside your core. It was too much and not enough and you couldn’t even stop yourself as your body let the ebb and flow of the magic in. Dean watched in awe as you went silent before an earth shattering orgasm ripped through your body.

Dean’s mouth crashed against yours as you came down, and you moaned as he ran a hand across your cheek and into your hair. You felt it again, but it was more than a spark. It was the need and devotion you were seeing in Dean’s bright green eyes as he looked down at you.

“I love you so much,” his voice cracked and your eyes immediately filled with tears. You didn’t wipe the tears away like you had in front of Sam or Mary for the last two months. You let the them fall, and couldn’t stop your sob when you saw tears run down each side of Dean’s face. You leaned in to kiss him again, his tears mixing with yours as he slid inside you.

With each touch of his fingers Dean showed you something new, magic unfurling with his desire. Each press and grind, each move together built and built, your bodies moving together like they had so often before. In that moment, you saw the love that only one man had ever given you as you came together like two lightning bolts in a dark storm. You’d found your way back to each other. And there in the backseat of the Impala, your home away from home, you found your heart again- Dean.

Out of breath and sweaty, you looked into each other’s eyes, sharing a long kiss before Dean collapsed on top of you. You giggled as he grumbled about the size of the backseat and tried to rearrange his legs in the seat well, and then you held him, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, heartbeat against heartbeat, soul against mate.

You didn’t intend to fall asleep again, but when you woke alone you stretched out as far as you could. You moaned happily at the slight soreness between your legs before leaning over the seat to find your clothes still strewn across the front seat. You grinned as you pulled Dean’s plaid on over your shoulders. A deep breath made you sigh happily as you found comfort in his scent in the blue and white cotton. Turning to look for your shorts, you realized Dean’s jeans and boxers were still on the driver’s side seat.

“Dean?” you called out as you opened the car door, stepping out to pull on your panties. You held his clothes up and laughed. “I know you’re glad to be home but did you forget pants?”

The silhouette standing at the dark end of the garage startled you, and you shrieked and put your hand over your heart. “Christ, you scared me.”

The figure strolled towards you and stepped out of the shadows, tall and dressed in a three piece suit. Icy opal eyes flashed and skimmed over you, and you froze in fear. There was an angel blade in the trunk, if you could make it there in time.

“Well, that was... _interesting_ ,” he chided as he walked closer, his voice vacant with lack of a soul. A sick amused smirk grew at the corner of his mouth.

“Dean?” You recognized his face now that he was in the light. The angel blade wasn't going to do a damn thing. 

“No. Well, he was. For eight weeks straight he wouldn’t quiet down about you.” He clucked his tongue. “So I gave him a temporary shore leave. Losing this,” he looked you up and down with distaste, “ _thing_ with you would hurt far more than the discomforts I’ve been...imposing upon him." You stared at the evil that was ruining Dean's beautiful face. "But don’t you worry…” you flinched and stepped back as he, _it_ , tried to pat your cheek like a pathetic stray dog. “He’s confined for the time being.”

“Dean!” you screamed as the monster solemnly stared you down. “Give him back to me!”

With a strange tilt of his head and another flash of blue irises Michael disappeared.

You dropped to your knees in the dark garage, alone and terrified as you tried to swallow what had just happened. Your chest tightened and before you could hyperventilate you knew you had to get help. You staggered to your feet and ran into the bunker, screaming for Sam.

He was in the library with Cas and Mary. He smirked, looking over your shoulder expecting Dean behind you. “You two have a good reunion?”

Your legs trembled and your knees gave out, Sam calling out your name as you fell onto the floor, your head bouncing off the hardwood. The three hunters were around you immediately, Sam pulling you into his arms and shaking you until you could choke out the truth.

“It was Michael. He’s gone.”

And with him, your heart.

**Author's Note:**

> ::::::::::::::
> 
> A/N 2: For the record, I’m DI-FUCKING-STRAUGHT about Dean being trapped in that monster, I think Michael is a total psychotic douchebag and I really hope Jensen can pull this off. Also I hate that I’m still attracted to him as said psychotic douchebag, damn you Ackles and your perfect face! Hope you enjoyed! Please leave comments and kudos!
> 
> ::::::::::::::  
> Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is property of evansrogerskitten. Characters aren't mine, but this fanfiction is. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post.


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